Stefan smiled angrily. “Right, the game. Is there something wrong?”
With the flip of a switch, he was back to his regular self that Trevor remembered being around when they were kids; leading the way into trouble, stealing from the liquor cabinet, taking his dad’s boat out for a late night rip. His smile was warm and inviting. “No, of course not! I’m just pinned. I get all squirrelly on that vodka your fiancé was pouring.”
“She’s just my girlfriend.”
“Right…”
Another awkward silence followed. Stefan grabbed his crumpled beer can and pulled the tab off, then folded it between his fingers. He had called Trevor into this room to chat about something specific, and yet nothing that could be considered ordinary or specific had taken place.
“That’s a fine woman you got there. Very fine,” muttered Stefan.
“Yup. Better get her to bed.”
“Now we’re talking.”
Trevor laughed through his nose.
“What does she like?” Stefan’s face was wooden.
“What?”
Stefan waited; his eyes glued open, the creases around his flat lips gone. “Ah! I’m just being an idiot. Tell me one thing before you go off to dreamland. What are you looking forward to most on this trip?”
Leaving. “The scuba, I guess.”
“Very good! I shall see to it that you are properly satisfied. I’ll send out a call to the ocean life. Assemble all the fishies.”
“You are some kind of special wasted.”
Stefan didn’t even hear the comment. “I need you to be a leader tomorrow.”
Trevor couldn’t help but laugh at his serious face. “Yes, of course. You don’t have to tell me twice. Or three times.”
Silence came again as Stefan played with his beer in a morose fashion. Gingerly fingering the mouth of the bottle, a smirk formed. “Good man.” He slapped the table. “Now please, I know you want to get rid of me, but I have to escort you to someplace special. It’s for you and your girlfriend, of course.”
As Trevor was about to rise from his chair to get the hell out of there, the lights went out. It was pitch-black. Trevor reached for the doorknob. It was locked. “Why is the door locked?”
“Damn automated locks. Power cut.” Stefan’s voice was monotonous.
“I can see that. Why did the power cut?” There was no response from Stefan. “Who else would be in charge of installing automated locks, Stefan? What’s with that?”
Still no answer. He could feel Stefan approaching him through the darkness. Trevor pinned himself up against the wall and waited. Suddenly, the lights came on and Stefan was face down on the table, a pool of drool forming around his hand, a light rumbling snore gliding off the end of the table.
They let themselves outside and split from Skye and Ashton, who were no longer in such a humping type of mood. It appeared that Ashton had picked up on some of her slightly flirtatious vibes with Stefan. Took the guy long enough to realize, Trevor thought. Walking up to the duplex, Erin pulled Trevor by the hand, to his surprise.
She was practically dragging him to the beach. “What are you doing?” Once they made it to the beach she pounced on him, kissing him aggressively. She was just full of surprises. She pulled him by the hand again. “Where are you taking me?”
They walked for about ten minutes without exchanging words, until finally he spotted a villa out on the water. “Stefan told us to take it.”
“I’m honestly sorry about today. I was being a competitive asshole. Does your chin hurt?”
She looked up at him with wide eyes. “Trevor…”
She was searching for words, and it appeared she was struggling to find them. “Yeah?” he asked.
“I… Come on.” She sprinted for the villa, and he followed.
Chapter Five - Erin
Their bed consumed most of the villa that was suspended over the blue. The floor was glass and the water was clear. The morning was going to be beautiful.
Erin grabbed hold of the back of his hair and pulled. He kissed her neck, bit her shoulder, and dug his fingers into her cheek. Her shirt fired off across the room and in a picture frame of fury, clothes were gone and he was inside of her.
What started as rampant thoughts were soon being vocalized. She wasn’t herself. Air was trapped in her throat. Nothing else mattered. The world ceased to exist.
Near the foot of the bed rested a table with a steel container holding strawberries and champagne on ice. They ate and drank into the night, talking for hours. Finally, face to face, his warm boozy breath on her, she shifted below his chin and drifted away, his skin smelling of sweat and cologne. It had all been a wonderful blur.
Her feet were smacking against the pavement. The streets were blurred, and the smell from the old paper mill was strong. She had been running for a long time.
They were closing the gap on her. She rounded a street corner and neared an old warehouse down by the docks. She cut hard to the right and into a back alley and climbed a fire escape. She crawled through an old window that had already been smashed out. Her feet landed on concrete, and she spun in a full circle, taking in her surroundings that were blackened by the cool and fearful night. It now smelled of urine and something rotting, like old vegetables. She would wait there for a while, and then flee back to where she had come from. Her partner, Josh, was at her side, his breathing heavy. He didn’t agree with her choice of hiding place, and he was cursing something under his breath that she couldn’t make out. “Just be quiet,” she whispered.
Josh was on edge, babbling broken English. Erin shushed him while grabbing his shoulder. They couldn’t be caught. Standing in the middle of the abandoned warehouse, she felt so horribly helpless. A few minutes passed and it seemed the coast was clear. But then, a noise. The pursuant was inside.
Erin woke up short of air. She turned and Trevor was not there.
She crawled out of bed, and a warm breeze touched her skin. She moved toward the entrance and stepped out. At the end of the dock, Trevor was lying down on his stomach, his head up looking toward shore. Ahead in the distance, Erin tried to find what he was looking at, but it was simply too far. There was nothing on the beach from what she could see. In the middle of the night on an island in the middle of nowhere, her boyfriend was spying on absolutely nothing in the trees. The lamppost on the dock provided only enough light to shine on the front of the beach, illuminating the tree trunks enough to show the darkness behind them. A strong wind rolled in, almost knocking her off balance. Goose bumps ran down her spine as she watched him lie there motionless, head up in the same spot. Is he awake?
She rubbed the backs of her cold and bumpy arms. “Trevor.”
No response.
“Trevor!”
He rose to his feet slowly, not turning his head back toward her. Trevor stood motionless, his hands dangling at his sides. Water sloshed loudly under the dock, shifting her weight. She turned to look out at the ocean to find that it was still. He remained there, possessed by something in the black, stuck there, gazing out at the palm trees that ruffled in the breeze, until finally he turned and walked her way. His steps were short and slow, his stare deadened. He was a walking zombie, moving in on her. As he approached, she could see that nobody was home, his eyes not registering her presence. She moved out of his way; if she hadn’t, he might have run her over, and he continued on back into the villa and crawled into bed.
When she stepped back inside the villa, hands trembling, his eyes were closed, and muffled snoring followed.
Her head hit the pillow, but her mind didn’t rest for about an hour or so. She prayed he wouldn’t get up again to try and strangle her in his sleep.